


wouldn't it be nice to live together/in the kind of world where we belong

by ginnystar (ginny_star)



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginny_star/pseuds/ginnystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boy meets boy. Boy punches boy. They fall in love - sort of. 50 First Dates re-imagining for reel_merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wouldn't it be nice to live together/in the kind of world where we belong

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on lj.
> 
> Standard disclaimers apply. Not mine.

He crashes into him in Camelot Cafe, dangerously late for a seminar, an unfinished assignment due in an hour or so, and still half asleep.

There's an almighty collision of skin and muscle and _really_ hot coffee and Arthur looks from his wet shirt to the profusely apologetic boy holding an empty cup and promptly decks him one before leaving.

Arthur goes into university, way past late with his _best_ fucking pair of jeans stained and a personal vendetta against skinny looking art boys with odd hair and funny ears. Arthur Pendragon is an unforgivably cranky bastard in the morning.

-

Arthur sees him again some several afternoons later. The cafe door chimes as he steps through, and his attention is caught by the laughing girl who is being served by the very same art boy he'd punched. There's a ring of bruises under his eye, a mottle of blue and green and Arthur feels a little guilty.

_Listen_, he starts, _listen, about that knock I gave you the other day..._ and Arthur is astonished when the boy (MERLIN, his tag announces) gives him a politely confused frown and apologises and _sorry, I don't know you. Can I get you anything?_

-

_Stay away from Merlin. _

Who is this? A.

Sry, you don't know me. But please, stay away from him. Hes been through too much. x

The boy in the coffee shop. The girl who comes in everyday. Two cups of coffee and a shared cake between them and damn it, _he needs to know why_. So he calls the number back, despite the fact it's three-bloody-thirty in the morning and he should be revising, he really should.

The phone rings once, twice, too many times before she finally answers, a resigned tone in her voice.

"We need to talk."

-

He learns that her name is Gwen Ivere, that she's in training to be a nurse and that she's known Merlin Emrys since they fought over a toy model of a dragon in year two (in the end they compromised; they'd share the burden of caring for it together).

There's a story about a night out one Friday, an icy patch on the road and a car full of carefree (_careless_) teens. There's an accident. There's a death (Merlin's friend), and two words that print themselves on Arthurs mind forever- _antereograde amnesia_.

"Today is the day the accident happened. Everyday."

-

Everyday Arthur orders a medium coffee, no milk, and sits opposite the counter. Everyday Merlin stumbles into work fifteen minutes late and wins the manager over with a cheeky grin and _I'm sorry, Gaius, it won't happen again._

At lunch, Arthur finds Merlin and Gwen in deep conversation, heads bowed together over a copy of a magazine that Gwen brings with her. She describes her outfit for the night upon prompting from Merlin and giggles appropriately when Merlin makes the same sly remark about some guy called Lance.

Enough. _Enough_. No-one deserves to live like that, not Merlin, not Gwen.

-

There are many tomorrows. The routine _shifts_, Arthur begins conversations with Merlin, sharp witty little barbs that Merlin seems unable to retort to (not very well, at least). They trade flirtatious one-liners across the counter and laugh about the weather (almost always rainy or dismal).

Arthur learns a lot about Merlin. He's an art student, he adores cats, he hates porridge, he pretends to care about politics, and he's in the process of writing a novel that one day he hopes will be published. His eyes crinkle slightly in the corners when he smiles. His eyelashes are insanely, unnaturally long.

-

He begins to add variation to the days- a planned outing here, a random adventure there. There's a medieval fair at the weekend, a twee affair with mock jousts and rife with historical inaccuracies.

They end up dressed in linens and velvets, drink buttery ale and throw rotten tomatoes at one another, taking photos of each other in the stocks. Arthur is crowned king after a duelling tournament and Gwen, his giggling queen.

He keeps a photo in his wallet afterwards, a moment captured forever that he gets to keep. Merlin is laughing; his head is thrown back in joy.

-

Three months, Arthur knows Merlin and three months of first encounters that are forgotten in sleep.

Today, Merlin has awoken.

As soon as Arthur steps into the cafe, he knows that something is wrong. Gwen is sitting with cake _sans_ Merlin; Gaius serves slowly, shoulders hanging heavy with sadness, remorse and guilt.

"Where's Merlin?" he asks Gwen, her tissues and tears half hidden by medical textbooks. In a quivering voice, she explains- a forgotten newspaper, the truth bleeding across the front page in indelible ink. A date that's two years away; nothing in between.

"He knows. Today, Merlin knows everything."

-

He finds him on a beach, hugging his knees and drawing deep, shuddery breaths in.

"You're Arthur," Merlin says, his voice rough and raw, "Gwen- Gwen's told me about you."

They sit for hours. Arthur begins, in slow and halting sentences to explain what has become verse and script. The accident. The recovery- of sorts. The past few months.

He expects confusion, anger, denial and sadness. He doesn't expect Merlin to punch him, fist landing solidly with his cheek. Sprawled out across the sand, Arthur stares at Merlin who stands above him, all sharp lines and tense features.

"Feeling better?"

-

Inevitably, the day comes to an end.

Merlin has come to a realisation, he finds his acceptance when he visits William's grave. Arthur hangs back from the group, awkward with the familiarity. It's not been the first time this has happened, he realises. It won't be the last.

He catches Merlin watching him from time to time. They hold one another's gaze in sweet, steady heartbeats before one of them (Arthur, it's always Arthur) looks away first.

Arthur is walking home when he feels the warmth of Merlin's hand on his shoulder, the wet contact of his mouth on his.

-

_Arthur,_

_I write this knowing that I'll not remember today tomorrow, but I'll trust Gwen will pass this on to you when you arrive at the cafe. Gwen has told me all about you, the hours you put into making every day different for me, the thought you give it all._

The love.

_It's there in your eyes, Arthur; I can see it there, all the time. And it's probably in mine too, every single day. Don't talk to me tomorrow, the day after that. Or the day after that._

_Do something with your life, Arthur._ Don't live mine.

_Merlin._

-

He finishes his degree a year later, he wears the stupid gown and is rewarded his firsts and a formal handshake from his father.

He hasn't attempted to go back to Camelot Cafe- at least, not since Gaius chased him out; a broom in one hand and a jug of steaming hot coffee in the other. Not since Gwen begged him, pleaded that this was what Merlin wanted and couldn't he see that _he just wants you to live, Arthur, can't you see that?_

He doesn't tell her that without Merlin, it doesn't feel much like a life at all.

-

It's getting better.

Arthur doesn't wake up thinking about him, doesn't go to sleep nursing a bruised and broken heart. He's moved flats, gained a reputation at work for being single-minded and efficient and has been the sole topic in the ladies room for months.

Arthur is writing his next article in some coffee shop, when suddenly coffee is spilled over his laptop. His _fucking laptop_, someone is going to _pay_. He looks up, furious- and then his breath gets caught in his throat.

"Shit, _fuck_, I am _so_ sorry. Oh God, ca- can I do anything to...?"

Arthur smiles.

_fin_


End file.
